is golden still
the branches are barren
but lovely still
winter's wind swept
the thunder of summer
into my journal
and slammed it closed
the glory of fall
it banished
to my paintings
and photographs
it's cold
but life remains
resting in those tree trunks
dancing in my
baby sister's eyes
winter may have it's moment
but I know a man
with Springtime in his blood
 |
